


Sing Me a Lullaby

by Withstarryeyes



Series: Dad!Tony Stark [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Collapsing, Dad!Tony Stark, Exhaustion, Fainting, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt Tony, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Villain Fighting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 19:52:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11562171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withstarryeyes/pseuds/Withstarryeyes
Summary: Tony feels like crying but he knows Peter will be okay. He can relate to working to the point of exhaustion. He’s not proud of it. I wanted you to be better, rings in Tony’s ears. There’s a reason he didn’t want Peter to be like him. Tony invites danger and chaos and pain. He invented spite in the face of it.He is woe to see Peter follow in his footsteps.(Villain Fighting as requested by lavio123)Also added Exhausted Peter because there wasn't enough whump without it :)





	Sing Me a Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry it took me this long to get this fic up. I had work 2 days ago and had some prior commitments and yesterday I had a massive headache and just couldn't get anything done on paper. Thank you for the continued support for this series I hope you like this new part :)

“C’mon Peter,” Peter whines, slamming his head down on his notebooks. His head protests the movement and for a second it feels like the world has tilted sideways. He’s tired, so tired he’s pretty sure that his tired is tired. “That doesn’t even make any sense,” Peter mumbles, the text blurs in front of his eyes. 

He hasn’t slept for a month, not with fighting bad guys, not with weekly meetings with Mr. Stark, not with the academic team, not with school, not with homework, not with  _ living _ . There are 24 hours in a day and Peter needs 50. 

The door knocks open clumsily and Aunt May peeks her head through, she’s got a night mask on, her hair in rollers and spot cream dotted along her neck. Her pajamas are wrinkled and faded from frequent use. Peter glances at the clock, it blinks back at him to be 8 in the morning. It’s a Saturday, Peter notes, but not to any avail because he still needs to find time to finish 3 projects and roam around for burglars and bad guys. 

“Peter,” she pauses looking around the room. His bed is neatly made, his clothes are the same from yesterday and his eyes are bloodshot, “did you sleep at all?” 

His eyes flicker to hers briefly as he considers telling the truth, his mouth decides for him, “Yeah, I just thought I’d get an early start to the day,” The lie feels like acid in his mouth. 

“You’re fifteen, how did I get the only fifteen year old on the planet…” her voice drones on as she walks to go get coffee, baffled by Peter’s behavior. 

Shoulders slumping from the effort of lying, Peter turns back to the weaving math problems he needs to solve before Monday.

* * *

 

There is some sort of insect creature attacking New York City. They’re nasty mantids with big, bold eyes that can see through buildings and have long, sharp pedipalps that can cut through metal, crush cement and are basically the most annoying evolution Tony Stark has ever seen in his entire life. 

He’s missing a booster boot, a slick incision apparent on his ankle, blood dripping off as he dips and dives and fires at the damn things. They’re larger than an average giraffe and Tony hates the damn creatures to his core. He doesn’t know how or why but they’ve evolved to duplicate at a moment's notice, a once manageable swarm has become a ravenous infestation. 

“Hawkeye,” Tony growls into his earpiece as one of the mantids plucks him out of the air, their mandibles starting to move towards his exposed ankle. An arrow goes whizzing past, hitting the side of the creature’s head. It roars, a sad little buzzing noise that they’re incapable of making any louder, and falls to the pavement, a thick green goop sluggishly pouring out. It spasms once before completely growing still. One down, ten billion more to go. Tony rolls his eyes as lands, his ankle crying out for him to stop, Tony finds it more of an inconvenience. 

“Cap, we need more help,” Tony grunts as he turns too quickly and his ankle rolls, Cap decides not to mention it. 

“We have every superhero that can and is willing to give us a hand,” Steve reasons, Tony sighs. 

“Except one,” Tony says and it’s small and weak and he hopes that nobody can hear it because he’d really prefer not to drag Peter into it. Out of the corner of his eye he catches a mantid turn into 3, the original munching on a car as the family scrambles out of the open windows. “We need Peter.”

He can hear Cap’s mouth open, the start of a logical and morally right argument as to why they shouldn’t contact Peter, then close as they all witness Natasha dangling from the antenna of one of the aliens, her knife barely scratching the thick exoskeleton. “Fine,” It’s rough but it’s there and Tony ducks into a parking garage to summon Peter.

* * *

 

Peter slings onto the scene on a web, his feet clipping the ground as he groans and stumbles to get his balance. 

Tony flips the faceplate up, his warm brown eyes oozing concern. He doesn’t have time to question before the mantids are  _ on  _ them and he needs to move. Peter’s health can wait, even if it crushes Tony’s heart to do so. 

“Cap?” Peter calls out, spotting the blue suit and shield around the corner of a building. The shield goes over his head, snapping the neck of the creature and boomeranging back to the Captain’s hands. “Where do you want me?” Peter whimpers at the thought of having to fight. He keeps losing his vision every 10 minutes for a split second. He knows he’s microsleeping, he knows he’s in trouble, he knows he’s been dumb. 

“Citizens, get them out and to safety.” Peter almost cries at the command. Thank God he’s not attacking. 

The next few hours Peter runs, scooping up little girls with big smiles and tiny swords wanting to fight with the Avengers, pushing dumb business men that  _ didn’t notice  _ the fight taking outside their office out of the way of their pedipalps, high fiving little boys with big dreams and brave intentions before escorting them out. He’s exhausted when the last of the fall, its eyes going glassy and it’s body bleeding slowly onto the concrete. 

Black Widow is limping, Tony’s ankle is bleeding and swollen, even Cap has a few scratches. And Peter? He’s bone tired, he feels like someone sucked out all the marrow and placed him, hollow and cold, on the streets. 

Tony claps him on the back, “You did good, kid. Maybe you can join us a few more dozen times.” When Peter doesn’t respond a shiver of fear goes down Tony’s spine. 

The kid’s eyes are glazed over and he has heavy bags under his eyes. He removed the mask once they all had filed into the helicarrier, plopping down onto the thick leather seats. His breathing is shallow too, Tony notes. 

“Peter?” He snaps his fingers in front of the teen’s eyes. 

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” Peter’s eyes finally meet his and they’re empty, his words are soft out of his mouth like he’s too tired to enunciate. 

“Are you okay?” Tony asks but before the last syllable is out Peter’s eyes flutter closed like a camera shutter and his body falls towards Tony. 

“Woah, Peter?” There’s a chorus of concern echoing onboard but Tony is frozen in silence. He swallows nervously, placing two shaking fingers ontop of Peter’s neck. He’s breathing and he has a pulse but Tony’s heart hasn’t stopped racing. 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. has already pulled up a scan of Peter’s vitals and his sleeping habits for the past month before Tony can ask. He pales more when he sees that the teenagers has only managed 4 hours of sleep over the past 4 weeks. 

Thor kneels beside the two of them when Tony pulls Peter fully ontop of him, his head resting on Tony’s thigh. 

“What is wrong with the man of spiders?”

Tony feels like crying but he knows Peter will be okay. He can relate to working to the point of exhaustion. He’s not proud of it.  _ I wanted you to be better _ , rings in Tony’s ears. There’s a reason he didn’t want Peter to be like him. Tony invites danger and chaos and pain. He invented spite in the face of it. 

He is woe to see Peter follow in his footsteps. But he plasters on a small smile and turns to Thor, making his voice loud enough so everyone can hear, “He’s fine, he’s just exhausted.”

There’s a collective sigh of relief except for Tony. He feels like someone punched him in the chest. He strokes Peter’s hair and waits for them to get the teen home, safe. Safe enough that Aunt May can have the big scary lecture this time. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if you would like to see more please leave a kudos or a comment. Any suggestions for future parts I will always take so please leave a comment for those. Thank you so much for continuing to read these and liking how I write Dad!Tony. I love seeing all the feedback you guys leave me!!
> 
> Thanks,  
> C


End file.
